


Hitsville, UK

by Sunbeam49



Category: London Spy, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 04:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunbeam49/pseuds/Sunbeam49
Summary: Greg Lestrade works a second job as "security" for London Spy's Rich.  Tonight he arrives just before one of Rich's regularly scheduled orgies.





	

**Author's Note:**

> M/M and some subdued discussion of underage sex. Contains some suggested ideas for Greg Lestrade's (surely?) dark background. Let's see, drugs. Handjobs. Implied and unseen wild orgy. Takes place back when Danny was a rentboy and just looking for love (not the later, tortured "London Spy" stuff.)   
> Angst, there's always angst.  
> This is being posted in a finalized edited version on January 8, 2017. I posted a first draft earlier full of a zillion mistakes because I was having very minor eye surgery (five or ten minutes, that was all), but I still panicked.  
> Not Britpicked but I am an Evelyn Waugh fanatic!

Lestrade pressed the intercom button: “Wakey wakey,” he said.  


“Come up,” a stoic voice replied.  


Lestrade entered the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor. The elevator was mirrored; God knows what those mirrors had been used for.

Rich opened the door. He looked like hell. “You didn’t pick the best of times, Inspector.”  


“Why’s that?”  


“I’m havin’ a little party. Might be some illegal activities goin’ on.”  


“What a surprise.”  


Rich lifted his chin and looked at him. “Why don’t you stick around, Greg? It might cheer you up, might even inspire you. How often do you get personally invited to filthy degenerate parties hosted by rich men?”  


"I’ve been to a few. More than a few.”  


“Come on, stay and watch. You can even join in.”  


“I can see watching. I don’t see joining in.”  


“Well, would you like your own boy then? I got lots of them.”  


Greg’s eyes drifted around Rich’s flat. His posh living room nothing but brick and painted wood. The swank kitchen with all those gold records in it.  


“I’ll just be my own boy, Rich.”  


Rich paused at that; then he scowled. “Do as you like. If you can just want to sit and watch, all right then. Whatever. Meanwhile, I’ve got to get the party preparation done.”  


 

In a few minutes, the intercom buzzed. Rich spoke quickly and then pushed the entry button.

A gaggle of boys began to file in. Greg looked them over. Mostly druggies. All on the flaccid side of pretty. They greeted Rich with warm kisses, but they kept sneaking peeks at Greg.  


He sat down on Rich’s big leather sofa. Very comfortable, so he might as well watch the orgy. Besides, Rich wasn’t going to interrupt his party just to give Greg some routine stack of cash.  


Only one young man wasn’t joining in. He still stood by the door. Their eyes met. Greg nodded, and the boy nodded back. Then he walked over and sat down by Greg.  


“Hello, I’m Danny,” the boy said, and he gave a quick awkward smile.  


“I’m Gavin,” Greg said. That was the name he used at Rich’s.  


“Are you a friend of Rich’s?”  


Save a step. “Are you trying to figure out what I’m doing here? I am too, if that’s any help. I mean, Rich and I go back a bit, and we have some business together. But . . .” Greg shrugged. “Why are you here?”  


“I don’t know. Drugs, I suppose. Although I’m trying to quit. He has these . . . “ Danny indicated the group in the corner, “orgies, I guess. He invites boys he’s interested in.”  


Now all of the boys were stripping off their clothes, and one dedicated lad was undressing Rich.  


Greg looked at Danny. He was the saddest person Greg had ever seen, and Greg had seen people chiming up and down all the chords of sorrow. 

Danny gave him a small smile. He was clean-looking, his clothes were clean, and he was clear-eyed.  


Greg put his hand on Danny’s knee. “You don’t have to smile if you don’t want to.”  


“I don’t mind.” Did he mean he didn’t mind smiling, or he didn’t mind Greg’s hand on his knee?  


Greg squeezed the boy’s knee.  


“Are you going to join the orgy?” Danny asked him. Those eyes seemed to be begging Greg, but he wasn’t sure what Danny was begging for.  


“Oh, no. Not for me.”  


And, out of nowhere, Danny put his hand on Greg’s crotch, and, despite everything, Greg went hard immediately. “You don’t have to do this, Danny.”  


Danny said nothing; he leaned his head onto Greg’s shoulder and kept up the soft caressing.  


Oh hell. Greg turned to Danny and embraced him, kissing the side of his face gently. It would be nice to have a little session with a clean pretty body. “Go on, Danny. You can unfasten my trousers, and your own as well.”  


“Are you sure?” A surprising question. “You’re so handsome.”  


“I want you,” Greg told him.  


Danny returned Greg’s kisses with sweet dry kisses of his own. Then Greg could feel Danny’s hand unfastening his trousers until his cock sprang out big and hard. Greg moved his hand down to Danny’s crotch and unzipped him. A nice little dick it was.  


Their embrace tightened as they began to stroke each other. Greg kept his eyes closed so he couldn’t see the business over in the corner; the sight of Rich naked wasn’t a pretty one.  


He tried to imagine that he and Danny were not there in Rich’s flat, but were alone in a nice hotel room. One with yellow papered walls. On an autumn Friday at twilight, rain pissing down.  


“I’ve got a rubber,” Danny whispered. “I could suck you off.”  


He didn’t want to see Danny’s sad face, but he did want Danny to suck him off. “Please,” Greg said.  


Danny knelt down between Greg’s knees; then he put the rubber on with his mouth. Nice touch. “Oh, yes, Danny, suck it hard.” Greg looked down at Danny with nearly closed eyes. He could sense, rather than see, commotion in the corner. Whether they were getting worked over something they were doing or over the sight of Danny blowing Greg made no difference to him.  


“Danny, let me hold your hand.” Danny looked up at him and then took his hand. Danny’s hand was just like him, soft and slender and cautious.  


Danny was good; he was able to take in most of Greg’s cock. His tongue, his lips were all actively involved in pleasing Greg.  


Greg leaned back on the sofa and just let the sensation roll over him. If they were alone, he could fuck the boy in the ass. They both might appreciate that. He squeezed Danny’s hand, probably too hard, but he was approaching his climax. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said between clenched teeth; there was a sudden pounding sensation all through his body, leaving him breathless until he pulled himself together.  


Then he looked at Danny’s sincere face, staring back at him. “Get rid of that rubber and stand up.”  


Danny did so with a minimum of motion. And, after he was standing before Greg, Greg pulled Danny’s trousers down to his top of thighs.  


“Sit down again, and let me handle you a bit. I like your cock.”  


Greg found it sweet, endearing even, to hear Danny’s small sighs and feel Danny’s soft kisses on his cheeks. He could tell Danny was getting near. “Like it, do you? I know I do. Nothing like the feel of a nice young cock in my hand.”  


At that, Danny came, hiding his face in Greg’s neck, breathing hard, and Greg could feel his body shudder.  


Finally Danny calmed himself. “That was kind of you.”  


Greg pressed Danny’s shoulders and kissed him under the ear. Then they sat there for a moment, Danny watching the orgy and Greg watching Danny.  


 

Chatter. Motion. Strong dope fumes. The orgy seemed to be winding down.  


Danny looked up timidly. “Will you be back at Rich’s next . . . affair?”  


Greg sighed. “That one’s hard to say. Today was just accidental, I’m afraid. I wasn’t invited.”  


“If I had your mobile number, I could let you know.”  


“How do you know when these parties happen?”  


“Rich calls us, or gets some minder or something to call us in.”  


“Well . . .” Greg didn’t really want Danny to have his number. He could see a relationship with Danny branch into a number of difficult directions.  


“It’s okay,” Danny said and pushed Greg’s hand away. “Let me clean us off.”  


“I’ll let you know later,” Greg assured Danny as he walked away.  


Danny was the first to leave, and then the others began to dress before wandering away. Rich got good-bye kisses from all of them as he finished putting his clothes back on.  


When the last boy had gone, Rich sat down on the sofa and handed over an envelope. Greg opened it and looked through the contents; then he nodded.  
  


“Going straight back to Slicky’s, ain’t you? Gamble your loot away.”  


Greg shrugged.  


“You ought to spend that dosh the way I do: boys and dope. Very satisfying.”  


“I like to be surprised by my investments. Sometimes the gee-gees come through, and sometimes they don’t.”  


“Drugs and ass won’t never let you down. Listen, the boys know who you are. I showed ‘em your mag. That old issue of ‘Top Man'.”  


“For Christ’s sake, I only did that for the money. I was poor and a kid.”  


“Maybe. But you was grinning your head off, holding out your big fat uncut dick like it was a piece of candy.”  


“Again, just for the money.”  


“And that ass. If that was you now, Jesus, I would fuck that ass raw day and night. You can’t tell me that photographer didn’t take more shots that than. I’d like to get hold of them contact sheets.”  


“That photographer was stabbed to death a few weeks after my session with him. I never learned the details, I mean, it was no surprise, he was a real arsehole to people, but it scared me out of that life. I decided to be on the safe side of the law, so I went back to school.”  


“Back to school! Bollocks!”  


Greg looked straight ahead. “All right, I had a sponsor. High up in the divisions. He was married, had kids, but he liked taking me around to his special parties. After they discovered I could keep secrets, I made more friends. Then they saw I was a cop and good at it. I haven’t stopped since.”  


“How long’s it been since you got fucked?”  


“A while. It’s hard to find the right man.”  


“More bollocks, Greg. You’re too old to fuck.”  


They were both silent for a moment.  


“Unless you pay for it. Like me. I ain’t too old, but I’m ugly as sin.” Another pause. “You’s suppose to deny that, Greg. Remember I’m the boss here.”  


“I do disagree with that, Rich. You’ve got your charms. As a matter of fact, I’m . . . very attracted to a man you remind me of.”  


“The plot thickens! Bring him around to one of my parties. It might get him all jazzed and ready.”  


“He’s not that type. Plus he’s my boss. No, check that, he’s the boss of the bosses who are my bosses.”  


“Look at you. You’re too old to have a daddy, but that’s what you want. That first copper. Now this man. Even me in a way.”  


Greg knew Rich was right. He had been so pretty he got used to being somebody’s boy. “Does it show so much? I mean, am I that pitiful?”  


“Well, all the lads today wanted you to join in. I could tell. You carry yourself like a man with a big dick. That wank session with little Danny Holt whetted their wee appetites, and mine too. But it kind of . . . turned into a big nothing, didn’t it?”  


“Indeed it did.”  


“Listen, let’s have a real session. I’ll have all my top boys in. They can watch you fuck Danny while he sucks me off.”  


“No.”  


“I’d pay good money.”  


“How would that work?”  


“I calls it ‘professional development’ and write off the expenses for the taxman.”  


“See, I don’t get that. It’s just a bloody orgy with boys.”  


“It’s not just an orgy. It’s part of the job. I’m lookin’ for the next Beatles.”  


Greg turned to face him. “Don’t you already have a boy band or two?”  


Rich smiled his horrible smile. “But not deluxe. Besides, those little fags are turnin’ on me. They think they have real talent. But I’m the one who provides all the sounds. They can’t even sing; I use studio singers for the voices, fat old men like you and me who CAN sing. Listen, I’ve got it all doped out. There’s a pattern, see, to the top boy groups. There’s one comical Ringo one. I might get a little tiny Chink for that. Or a Gyppy. Then a stroppy intellectual with a tragic background. That’s the John. George, he’s the quiet one. And a big bubble-butted pretty boy for the Paul. It’s a chemistry thing. At one time, I thought Danny might be a perfect George. Those chocolate eyes and brown mop top? But he’s got the charisma of a cardboard box. The quiet one? Too bloody quiet for me.”  


“Well, Rich, you do have a gift for a certain kind of success.”  


“Yeah, but I’ve got to get iron-clad contracts. And, of course, some frank talk with them. If they want to be millionaires, then they have to be my fucktoys. My absolute slaves. So I’m auditionin’ these young blokes, lookin’ for those certain someone’s.”  


“How young?”  


“Well, the one I’ve got my eyes on now is sixteen. And I know what you’re going to say.”  


“You start in on anybody under eighteen, and we’re both doomed. I can’t get you out of it.”  


“But he’s so pretty he makes me high.” Rich put his hand on Greg’s thigh. “I can get you free concert tickets for your man and his family. Break the ice, so to speak.”  


“He’s not married.”  


“Hmmm.” He squeezed Greg’s thigh. “Well, Greg, I do like ‘em pretty. My favorite Beatle was Paul. So pretty. Listen, I know you’re not immune either, Greg. You said you wasn’t going to play, and yet you end up with that big cock in Danny Holt’s mouth. So, was it George who was your favorite Beatle?”  


Greg looked at Rich; then he looked away. Rich’s flat was silent as the grave. Sound-proofed like Rich’s ground floor studio. He briefly wondered what the middle floor was used for. Then he pushed Rich’s hand away. “I prefer to be my own favorite Beatle, Rich.”  


Rich stood up; then he lifted his chin. “I’ll make us tea.” 

The tea was surprisingly good. Of course, Rich would have the best tea, even the best kettle.  


“What did you think of Danny?” he asked Greg.  


“He was sad.”  


“Not so very sad. I’d say. Looked like you both was in ecstasy at one point.”  


“Rich, I expect you’ve experienced that. Those two things, sadness and ecstasy, existing together.”  


“You could quit the force. Become my special private enforcer.” Rich breathed in. “I’m all fucked out now, but, then when I thought about you fuckin’ Danny, my heart sped up. Come work for me.”  


Greg looked at him. Rich wanted a harem of underage boys, and he must think that, if Greg were his enforcer, it would give him protection with the law. “That will never happen,” he told Rich.  


Rich stood up and got his mobile. Then he wrote something down. “All right, here’s Danny’s number. Don’t give all that money to Slicky – save some for a nice tuck-in with young Danny. Dining wi’ the Po-faced, I calls it.”  


“Look at you, giving love tips to the young.”

  

He got an answering machine. Thirty seconds for the message. “Danny? This is Gavin. From Rich’s. I’d like to meet you tomorrow night for supper. If you’re available, call me back at this number, and we can arrange things. I just realized how much I’d like to see you again.” When he breathed in, the phone went ‘beep’; his thirty seconds were up. He rang again, “If you don’t call back, I’ll try again. I’m serious, Danny. Please call me.”  


  Beep.


End file.
